


Sixteen Hundred

by mcgarrygirl78



Series: Crazy Love [7]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Family, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2435660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Put it on the table, Aaron.  Just put the whole card there; I have a lighter in my bag.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sixteen Hundred

**Author's Note:**

> This story is written in the **Thicker than Water** universe, where the BAU are kids and teens.

Hotch didn’t even have a chance to say hello or kiss her hello before Megan slammed her tray down on the table. She also slammed down an envelope.

“Open it.” she demanded.

“What?” Hotch picked it up. “What is it?”

“I think that bastard sent me a card.”

“Who?”

“Would you just open it, Aaron?” she asked, her voice and whole stance softening. “Please.”

“Yeah.” he nodded and used his finger to open the envelope. It was addressed to Megan but didn’t have a return address.

Sure enough it was a birthday card with a pretty teenage girl on the front. She was sitting in front of a cake poised to blow out the candles. It said, _Happy Sweet Sixteen_. Hotch opened it up and read ‘ _to the sweetest girl in the world_ ’. Then there was a short, handwritten message. ‘ _I know I'm late but I hope it was a good day. Sincerely, Andrew M. Kane_ ’.

Sincerely, Andrew M. Kane, was he serious? What about Dad, Pop, your old man, or some other term of endearment for father. Megan had probably gotten more intimate notes from the Vice-Principal. Not to mention the part about him being late. He was a year late; Megan had just turned seventeen. There was another envelope inside; obviously it had money in it. Since Megan did nothing to stop him, Hotch put it on his lap under the table, pulled it out, and counted it. He counted sixteen $100 bills.

“Oh my God,” he mumbled.

“What?” she demanded.

“There’s sixteen hundred dollars in here.” Hotch whispered. “He sent you sixteen hundred dollars.”

“Spread it out on the table; I want to set it on fire.”

“You can't do that.” Hotch put the money back in the card. He put the card back in the envelope.

“Why not? I don’t want his fuckin money, the son of a bitch. Put it on the table, Aaron. Just put the whole card there; I have a lighter in my bag.”

“No.” he shook his head, holding onto the card.

Megan lifted her hand like she was going to belt him and Hotch actually cringed. He wasn’t sure if she would or not. She’d probably regret it right after it happened but that wouldn’t make him any less hit. He would do his best to take it like a man if it came to that. He knew where her anger was coming from. If she got that envelope from him, the money was going up in flames and Megan would be suspended for pyromania.

“I'm not going to hit you.” she put her hand back in her lap.

“I appreciate that. You and your mom could probably use this money. I know how you feel about your dad, and surely he deserves it, but this money could be useful.”

“For who, Melinda?” Megan asked. “If I gave it to her she’d use it for some cruise or a damn designer purse she doesn’t need. I'm not even going to tell her about it. I don’t have to worry about him calling to do it, unless it’s to rub her nose in it. He didn’t even put a return address on the envelope. This is probably more stay lost money. I got some on my 13th birthday too. I guess he just forgets about the ones in between.”

“Don’t you know where he lives?” Hotch asked.

“Sure, he lives in Fort Worth. I don’t know his address; I haven’t since he kicked us out, sold the house, and bought a new one for his whore. But I know where he works…I have ways of keeping track of him. If I cared about doing such a thing, which I do not.”

Hotch had a feeling she cared a lot. He watched as Megan sighed and focus on her turkey burger. She was resigned, sad; he could feel it coming off of her in waves. He felt like he needed to do something. It wasn’t just because he was supposed to, as the boyfriend, he wanted to. He hated when she was sad.

“You could pay it forward.” He said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well if you don’t want it because of what it represents, you can give it to others who need it. They won't care that your father is an asshole. It could be the difference between life and death for them.”

Megan seemed to think about it. She ate a little of her lunch and thought about it some more. Then she looked at him.

“How did you get so smart?” she asked.

“There is a high probability it’s the pesticides in our drinking water.” Hotch replied. “If I prove that theory correct though, I might disappear.”

She smiled. Megan actually smiled and she meant it. Damn Aaron Hotchner and his ability to get her to see beyond her own storm clouds and shadows. Most girls would really appreciate that. Megan knew for a long time that she wasn’t most girls.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him. Hotch didn’t normally do public displays of affection. At Georgetown Day you couldn’t get more public than the cafeteria. But this time he kissed her back and then gently kissed her nose. She always liked that; there was something so sweet about that. There was just something so sweet about him.

“How do I do it?” Megan asked.

“Do what?”

“How do I pay it forward?”

“Well, there’s sixteen hundred dollars here…that’s $100 for sixteen people. You get to pick them and take as much time as you want. But give every dime away. The poison goes with it.”

“Or I could buy those Christian Louboutin peep-toed black high heels I saw at Macy’s when Melinda took me to New York.” She said. “They were $600.”

“A $600 pair of shoes!” Hotch exclaimed. “Good God, do they dance on their own?”

“No silly,” Megan giggled. “I bet you'd really like them…they're 4” stilettos.”

“I’d like you if you wore duck yellow Wellies.” He replied. “But if you want the shoes…”

“No, your idea is better. I want to pay it forward. Will you do me a favor and hang on to the money for me until I figure out exactly how I'm going to do this?”

“Sure.” Hotch put the birthday card in his backpack. Then he started eating her French fries. He stopped when she slapped his hand. “You were gonna let them get cold. You always let them get cold.”

“I don’t mind eating them chilly.”

“I do.”

“Well they're not yours, Aaron.” She playfully poked his chest. “Why does he always do this?”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah.” Megan nodded.

“I wish I could answer that. If I had a child I could never turn my back on them. I wouldn’t hurt them or make them feel sad; that’s horrible. Children don’t ask to be born and they don't get to pick their parents.”

“If you could pick your parents, who would you choose?”

“I don't know.” Hotch shrugged.

“Play along, Aaron. C'mon…”

“Well honestly, I’d like my dad to be someone like Commander Riker. He’s traveled all over the universe. He’s smart, brave, knows a thing or two about women, and he’s never afraid to take a risk. I think he would raise me to be the kind of man I want to be.”

“That is the geekiest answer I've ever heard.” Megan replied smiling. “I like it. What about your mom?”

“No,” Hotch shook his head. “I only had one mom and she was amazing. My few memories of her are some of my most pleasant.”

Megan couldn’t believe it; that was the most he’d said about his mother since they met. He did tell her that she’d died when he was really young but Megan didn’t know how. She never pushed, everyone was allowed their secrets. She surely had hers.

“I'm gonna go ahead and replace both parents.” She sipped her cranberry apple juice. “I'm torn though between Nick and Nora Charles and Tom and Margo Hughes.”

“I don’t know Tom and Margo.”

“They're a soap couple. They’re suburban, loving, smart, professional, awesome parents. But the trendy side of me wants to go with the jet-setting, martini drinking, mystery-solving parents. Plus I think I would make a hell of a dame.”

“You're not gonna get any argument out of me.” Hotch replied.

“Thanks.”

“For what, thinking you're a dame?”

“No, for helping me focus for once when it comes to my father.” Megan said. “I can't promise it’s always gonna be that way. I can't even promise it'll be that way later today. But it’s that way now and I appreciate it.”

“I know how to make the good feelings last.” Hotch leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“Ooh, are you going to say something dirty? Go ahead, tell me.”

“We’ll go to Lord and Taylor after school…you can try on some clothes.”

Megan smiled. She did have slight shopaholic tendencies and she was definitely an emotional shopper. But she shook her head.

“If you want me to pay that $1600 forward and not to Isaac Mizrahi, you better not take me anywhere near Lord and Taylor.” She replied.

“So noted.” Hotch grinned.

Megan finished her lunch, including her chilly French fries, and then she and Hotch parted ways. She had Latin and he had Chemistry. They probably would meet up after school but she’d go into the bathroom and cut herself before that. She wouldn’t do major damage and definitely not in a spot where it would be noticed. Megan had to get the poison out as Hotch said.

It had been a long time but she couldn’t think of any other solution at this point. Screaming rarely worked and she couldn’t kill anyone. Paying it forward was only going to help so much. She loved him for coming up with it but she just wished her father would die. If she was going to get his money, Megan wanted it in a lump sum and have it just be over.

He was surely doing this on purpose…he was trying to break her. He’d been so close to succeeding many times. He couldn’t have her now, just when everything in her life was better than it had ever been. Get the poison out; that would have to work for today. At least she didn’t have to worry about another card for two years. Eighteen was her next milestone and maybe by then she’d be over all this nonsense. Maybe she would be by nineteen, which is when her father would send her the card if he followed his usual trend.

***

  



End file.
